Curtain Call
by Tanookie
Summary: Post-Sectionals. Will tries to cheer the club up with a Broadway-themed holiday concert, but things at McKinley are anything but smooth as romances are kindled, new rivalries form, and old enemies return.
1. Chapter One

**Title:** Curtain Call

**Summary:** Post-Sectionals. Will tries to cheer the club up with a Broadway-themed holiday concert, but the drama only heightens as romances are kindled, new rivalries are born, and old enemies return.

**Rating:** T - Language, Sexual Content

**Pairings:** You'll have to wait and find out!

**A/N:** Because Glee needs MOAR SHOWTUNES. You should also definitely download the songs if you want to see what sort of things they're all singing.

Reminders: Please turn off all cell phones and pagers (or at least set them to silent), and no flash photography, as it may blind the actors onstage…we don't want Artie rolling himself into the orchestra pit again, do we?

* * *

_"The musicals had a good, happy feeling, saying that the world is a better place. They say it's not reality, but who cares? There's too much reality these days."  
__- Shirley Jones  
_

**Chapter One**

The words written across the whiteboard in Will Shuester's untidy scrawl were nearly incomprehensible to all the members of New Directions: Sondheim, Webber, Loesser, Schwartz, Gilbert, Sullivan, and a half-dozen other names were proudly displayed on the white surface in green ink, giving a clue to the kids as to what the day's discussion would be about.

"Who can tell me what these names are, or who they belong to?" Will asked once the bell had rung.

Rachel's hand shot up instantaneously, her face already bearing an insufferably giddy grin. "Somebody besides Rachel?"

Rachel, her expression now slightly crestfallen, nodded and returned her hand to her lap. Will glanced over the rest of the class: Finn was staring at the board, his eyes half-closed and red, and Puck was attempting to subtly text on his phone. Mercedes and Tina, neither of whom were theatrically inclined, had taken sitting back with crossed arms, while Kurt was too busy trying to fix a cowlick to pay attention (which was a shame, as Will expected him to know it).

Brittany finally raised her hand uncertainly, having been encouraged by an amused-looking Santana. "It's a sickness, right?" Santana burst out into giggles, stifling them with her fist. Brittany turned to her friend, her expression unchanged, and told her in as harsh a tone as she could muster: "My grandfather had Lou Gilbert's disease." Santana's mouth dropped open and she covered it again before people could see her smiling.

Will's expression in response was a mixture of sorrow and amusement. "Well…no. But I'm very sorry to hear about your grandfather, Brittany."

"It's okay," Brittany replied with her usual empty smile. "He's better now."

Will nodded slowly and made a mental note to talk to Principal Figgins about transferring Brittany to a special ed. class. He inwardly groaned as he looked back at the kids; Rachel's hand was back in the air.

This time she didn't even wait for him to call on her. He was sighing heavily, preparing to call her name, when she burst out haughtily, "They're composers. Incredibly famous ones."

Will smiled slightly, even though he knew Rachel would answer correctly. "That's right. Now, with regionals now on the horizon I've decided that it's time we work on expanding our repertoire a bit. You guys remember what I said when we worked on Defying Gravity?" Kurt's face fell and Rachel grinned more proudly. "The judges enjoy the classics, like famous Broadway songs. We can see that that's true, since Rachel blew them all away with her ballad." Rachel smiled proudly, and the other members couldn't help but smile, too—even Mercedes.

"So," he continued with a clap of his hands, "starting today, I'm going to be assigning you all different showtunes that we'll all be singing for a special Christmas…"—he stopped, remembering that Rachel and Puck were Jewish—"sorry, holiday concert."

Rachel raised her hand. Again. "Mr. Schue, as ecstatic and fulfilled as I am to be performing a Broadway revue, having a holiday concert without seasonal music just seems odd. Besides, I already ordered an eight-part arrangement of 'Hava Narima' two months ago so that we would have something festive under our belts."

"Well, Rachel," Will replied, "the chorus is already performing holiday music, so I figured we should do something to contrast that. Besides, showtunes are fun!" he finished enthusiastically. No one seemed to be sharing his enthusiasm. Even Rachel had sunk back into her chair slightly.

"The arrangement was spectacular," she muttered in a hurt tone to Finn, who jolted awake, wiping the drool off his chin with his sweater sleeve. "And I've already learned all the female parts for it," she continued, oblivious to the fact that she had just woken her friend from his slumber.

Finn, who clearly had no idea what was going on, simply nodded and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Yeah, me too." Rachel's eyes darted over to him momentarily. She felt herself smiling softly. His cluelessness was attractive, even if it had forced the burden of telling the truth about Quinn onto her argyle-clad shoulders. But still, now was not the time to be thinking about relationships. Regionals would soon be upon them, and Rachel knew that expanding the club's range of songs (certainly not her own, as she already had thirty-odd ballads and up-tempos comfortably tucked away in her mind) would be a great asset to their preparation. And Mr. Schue was right…showtunes were fun.

"I was kind of waiting for suggestions," Mr. Schue finally said with a meaningful glance in Rachel's direction, "but I guess for now I'll have to assign all of you guys pieces to work on. Until the concert, three weeks from Thursday, you guys will all be working on solos and duets on your own, and then during rehearsal we will focus on two or three group numbers. Okay?"

Most of the kids gave a grunt or a weak "Okay" to show that they understood. Rachel was on the edge of her seat, waiting to see what Mr. Schuester would say next. If he didn't finally give her a chance to perform "Defying Gravity," she would be incredibly displeased.

"Alright, let's start with Finn and Puck." The two football stars glanced up and reached out as Will handed them identical copies of sheet music. "You two will be working on 'Agony' from Into the Woods."

Neither of the two boys showed any reaction. Puck shot Finn a glance and nodded; Finn didn't even look up from his music. Although Will knew that they were still hostile towards each other after what had happened with Quinn and the baby, he hoped that maybe the they would be able to work out their problems after spending time together working on a song. Not to mention the song was about women, so it might release some of their pent-up frustration. Will knew that he sure needed some of that.

"Rachel and Quinn…" Will paused for a moment as he shuffled through his stack of sheet music, before finding what he wanted and handing it to the girls. "You guys are singing 'For Good' from Wicked."

Rachel looked thrilled at first (because Elphaba's part in the song was beyond fantastic), but her face slowly fell as she realized the implications behind his choice. "Mr. Schue," she asked, looking up at her teacher expectantly, "Does this mean that I won't get a chance to perform 'Defying Gravity?'"

"Actually," Will replied, "I was just getting to that." He handed her a second piece of music. "I took the liberty of rearranging the song slightly; you and Kurt will both be performing the song together."

Rachel took the paper, unsure of whether to be happy or not. After all, she was finally getting the chance to perform two of the most well-known songs in modern theater, but she had to share it with Kurt? The boy who had tried to ruin her relationship with Finn so he could pursue him in some sort of deranged sexual fantasy? The one who had immediately blamed her when the truth about Quinn's baby came out? Somehow Rachel didn't think this would be a good experience at all.

Kurt, on the other hand, was overjoyed to be given another chance to sing the song. Now his dad's efforts wouldn't go to waste and he could finally get some time in the spotlight!

His heart fell, however, as he saw his part highlighted in the music. He was singing a harmony with Rachel's melody, and only got a few lines to himself…he frantically flipped through the pages of the music, eying each note expectantly.

There was no high F.

He sighed dejectedly and flipped his hair dramatically, turning to Mercedes. "At this rate," he muttered in a low tone, "there's no way Mr. Schue will ever let me show off my range."

"Dude," Mercedes replied consolingly, "don't sweat it. I'm sure even in this bunch of tip-tap-cracker Broadway songs we'll be able to find something that you can bust a move to. We'll work on that tonight, okay?"

Kurt nodded, thankful he had a friend who appreciated his talent and wanted to let it shine as much as he did himself. Feeling a bit more optimistic, he glanced down at his part and began to hum it to himself softly. He mentally sung each note in a clear falsetto, and found that the harmony was actually quite pretty. He had to admit it…as pissed as he was that he wouldn't get his precious high notes, the song would sound gorgeous once he and Rachel worked on it.

"We've got some group numbers now…" Will mumbled as he pulled out a stack of sheet music, most of which the students assumed would be the same. "We've got two right now, though they're solo-heavy, so we'll be spending the next few rehearsals working on these numbers together. We might even have more since we have such a long time to rehearse.

"First is one that you five might remember," he said, nodding to Artie, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, and Rachel in turn. "A little 'Sit Down, You're Rocking the Boat' from Guys and Dolls?"

The five original members looked a little aghast at first, but then laughed as the song brought back memories of a time before the Glee Club had been so successful; a time when Rachel stormed out of every rehearsal and they wore hideous disco costumes because there wasn't enough in the budget for new ones; a time when Artie had to carry the male part by himself since Kurt insisted on singing first soprano. They shared a small look and took the music happily, forgotten harmonies already coming back.

"Now that we have more members," Will explained, "this song is going to be so much better. Artie is still doing the solo"—Artie gave a sheepish smile and his face flushed as he remembered the first time they performed it ("Mr. Schuester, do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to give the lead solo in 'Sit Down, You're Rocking the Boat' to a boy in a wheelchair?!")—"and he's gonna rock it like he always has."

The kids cheered softly for their friend; since the wheelchair incident, they'd all become far more supportive of their disabled friend, making Artie even more thankful he'd been brave enough to sign up for the club with Tina. "Our big showstopper is going to be 'You Can't Stop the Beat.' You all probably know that one…from Hairspray?"

There were excited murmurs amongst the members of the club—even those who didn't like musicals couldn't deny that Hairspray was incredibly catchy and fun to listen to. "This'll be our big number, so I'm hoping you guys give it your all and work really hard in these rehearsals, okay? Moving on…"

"Wait, Mr. Schue?" Rachel interrupted. "Who's getting those solos in 'You Can't Stop the Beat?' It's got a lot of solos, after all, and…we were all just wondering how you were going to be splitting it up."

Everyone groaned softly; no one really cared who got the solos except for Rachel, but she had to bring the whole club in it to make herself sound less selfish, of course.

"Well, Rachel," Will replied, "I can't say I've thought about that yet. I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Rachel nodded slowly and sat back down; everyone could see the cogs spinning furiously in her mind to think up ways to ensure she got yet another solo in the biggest number. But it was Rachel, and none of them expected anything different.

"Santana and Tina…" the group all did a double-take, looking at the Latina cheerleader and the quiet Oriental girl, both of whom shot each other hesitant glances. Will clearly sensed the confusion in his group, for he said, "Yes, you heard me right. I figured now would be as good a time as ever to give our less-featured kids some time to shine…if that's okay, of course?" He knew from experience that not all students were like Rachel and Mercedes and wanted to be in the spotlight; some were perfectly content to stand behind the leads and sing backup. Fortunately, Santana and Tina both jerked their heads up and down after checking with each other. Will grinned and handed them their music.

"'America' from West Side Story. Santana, you're Anita, and Tina, you'll be singing Rosalia's part. This is going to be our women's piece, and it's got some pretty tough choreography, so we'll have to work a lot on it. Which is why we're not having a male song to go with it…sorry, guys."

"No, Mr. Schue," Finn said, sounding as though he had made up his mind. "It's fine." He wasn't in the mood at all to learn any more music; the only reason he'd gotten and learned the Rolling Stones music so quickly for Sectionals was because he knew the song already and he had known the other members were counting on him. Right now, though, regionals was the last thing on his mind; he just needed some time to sort out his thoughts.

Will nodded sagely at Finn, but didn't say anything; they were both going through tough times and Will understood exactly how Finn felt. "Now," he said, changing the mood with an excited tone of voice, "for our final number…Emma told me about how you all were planning on having Mercedes sing 'And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going' for the Sectionals ballad, but she never got a chance to because of all the cheating. So, since the song is from a musical…Mercedes, you're going to have the opportunity to perform solo at the concert!"

Everyone clapped and cheered as Mercedes grinned joyously, ecstatic to finally have a number all to herself and be given a chance to be in the spotlight. People were clapping her on the back and congratulating her—even Rachel, who applauded politely for the girl with a somewhat proud smile on her face.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," Mercedes said, her cheeks flushing slightly (even though she honestly felt that she was long overdue for her time in the spotlight).

"Well, from what I heard," Will replied kindly, "you deserve it. Please remember," he continued, now addressing everyone, "that this list is by no means final. Figgins told me that, due to the club's success at sectionals, we can have up to an hour of performances, so if any of you have requests for duets, or even solos, please let me know about them as soon as possible."

The bell rang, signaling the end of morning break and the start of the next class. "Alright guys, have a great day, and I'll see you all this afternoon for rehearsal. We'll be working on 'Sit Down,' so, Artie, would you mind showing up a bit early to make sure you remember the solo?"

Artie grinned as he wheeled himself out of the door. "Sure thing, Mr. Schue." As he followed Mercedes out the door, Tina popped up beside him and nudged him playfully on the shoulder.

"Congrats, Artie!" she said with a smile, hoping that she could strike up a conversation with him. She and Artie hadn't really spoken since their 'date' when he had stormed out after she told him about her stutter, and ever since then, she'd been trying to get back on friendly terms with him.

"You too, Tina," Artie replied stiffly, maneuvering to the side to avoid a burly hockey player. "But…you and Santana seems like a pretty random pair."

Tina shrugged, simply glad that Artie was still continuing the conversation. "Well, like Mr. Schue said, he wants to give everyone a chance to shine…right?"

"Yeah," Artie replied, still not looking at her. "Plus, you and Santana are basically the closest thing to ethnic we have, right?" he chuckled softly, but Tina frowned, her eyebrows knitted. Normally she would have laughed too, but the way Artie had said it had been a bit too harsh and cruel for him.

Tina laughed uncomfortably. "Yeah…right." They stopped at a left-right hallway junction. "Well…guess I'd better go to math. Bye, Artie!"

She tried to wave, but Artie was already wheeling down the hallway in the opposite direction without a look back.

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah, I know, not too exciting...but every story needs a setup, right? This is unbeta'd, so any and all suggestions for improvement are highly appreciated!


	2. Chapter Two

"_Every knot was once straight rope."  
__- The Mysterious Man, "Into the Woods"_

**Chapter Two**

"So…what exactly is this play about?"

"Mr. Schue told me that it's about fairy tales—"

"Gay..."

"—But he said that it's like, full of sex and blood and stuff. Apparently real fairy tales were kinda creepy."

"Still gay…"

"Like, Little Red Riding Hood _dies_. She doesn't get saved. The wolf just eats her and that's the end!"

"Well, she was a dumb bitch for talking to a wolf in the first place."

"You're not helping!"

Finn clutched his sheet music tightly, his animosity towards Puck only increasing with every disdainful statement he said. Mr. Schue had given him some background information on the show that they would be performing from; the two of them were portraying princes, who were talking—or, singing, rather—about how awful it was to deal with women that wouldn't give them what they wanted. _Kinda like now…_ Finn realized sadly, staring at his computer monitor. Mr. Schue had e-mailed them some links to look up fairy tales and see how the stories had been originally written, in order to see why _Into the Woods_ was such a great show.

"Whatever," Puck sighed, which was clearly a sign of his resignation towards learning about this dumb musical. He leaned over Finn's shoulder and peered at the list of stories. "Here, click on that one…"

Finn moved the mouse pointer over to the link titled "Rapunzel" and clicked on it. The page came up and the two boys read through the story quickly.

"…Wait," Finn asked a few minutes later in a confused tone, his brown eyes squinting at the words on the screen, "why does the witch get pissed at Rapunzel when her clothes get tighter? She doesn't have to be such a bitch to her just for getting fat…I mean, it's the witch's fault anyway for not letting Rapunzel get any exercise…put her on a diet or something, you don't have to cut all her hair off…"

Puck sighed and rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered how Finn got to be so stupid. He himself may not be taking a particularly challenging course load, but at least _he_ could recognize sexual innuendo (_obvious _innuendo, at that) when he saw it (unlike Finn, who thought for four months that you could get pregnant in a hot tub).

"Idiot," Puck muttered, smacking Finn on the back of the head. "It means she got knocked up."

Finn bristled at the last phrase and rubbed the spot where Puck had hit him. "It doesn't have to mean that," he replied shortly. "You of all people _would_ see it as something sexual…" he muttered accusingly.

"Anyone with half a brain can that it's sexual, dumbfuck," Puck deadpanned in reply.

"You don't have to call names," Finn shot back, his voice slowly growing louder and more annoyed. "Just because my brain's not in the gutter like yours—"

"What brain?"

"Shut up!" Finn spun around and, for the first time in over a week, looked Puck straight in the face. He felt a searing heat bubbling inside his stomach, and when he and Puck's eyes met, Finn felt the anger inside him leap up momentarily, like hot lava—this was the scumbag who had fucked Quinn and made her _lie_ about it! Finn felt his jaw clench, and his hands tightened into fists. He had already punched Puck several times when he first found out, but he hadn't let it all out just yet. "Just because you and…and _her_"—he still couldn't bear to mention Quinn's name—"just because you two snuck around behind my back and convinced me she was having _my_ baby—"

"For _four fucking months_!" Puck yelled exasperatedly. "Seriously, man, you'd have to be MENTALLY RETARDED not to realize—"

"_I loved her_!" Finn screamed at the top of his lungs, cutting Puck off and rendering him silent. "I fucking _loved_ her, that's why! I loved her, and I trusted her! I loved her even before she was pregnant! When we found out…" Finn collapsed onto the bed, looking down at the ground forlornly, his voice considerably softer, "or, when I found out, I was so scared at first. Like, completely terrified. But…then I kept thinking about names, and—and rocking her to sleep at night, and feeding her, and watching her walk and…I began to think that, y'know, we would be able to start a life together. Have a family, and a home…" His gaze moved up from the floor, and Puck could see that his friend's eyes were shimmering with tears.

"I was so…happy…" Finn continued. "I was there for her…we were there for each other…"

_Hardly,_ Puck mentally scoffed, but he didn't say anything. _The only reason you finally found a fucking job was because of Rachel Fucking Berry, whose tail you were too busy chasing around to bother making sure Quinn was okay. Did you ever have to deal with those goddamn ginger brats? Didn't think so._

"I remember her asking me 'Can we be in love again?'" Finn was still talking, though it was more to himself than Puck at this point. "And that was, like, one of the happiest moments of my life. Because then I knew that we both wanted to be with each other." By this point, tears had begun to trickle down Finn's cheeks. They were slow and gradual, swelling to their largest size before rolling down to his chin. He hastily wiped them away and put his face in his hands, unwilling to let Puck see that he was crying.

Puck, of course, had seen the tears, and crossed his arms and pursed his lips disapprovingly. Was Finn really getting this emotional over a girl? Sure, Puck really wanted to be with Quinn too, but he was smart enough to respect her wishes and back off when she wanted him to. It was like what she had told him right after the fight: _"I'm gonna do this on my own; I know you don't understand it, but please respect it."_

"You know what she told me?" Puck murmured quietly. "She told me she was going to raise the baby by herself."

Finn looked up at Puck in disbelief. Was he being serious? "Wait…" Finn said, "does that mean she's not having it with you?"

_Technically, she did. And did she ever... _"Yeah," Puck replied. "She just doesn't wanna have to deal with choosing who the father is."

Finn was quiet for a moment, nodding and staring at the ground. It was clear he was trying to fight back the rest of the tears that were clearly shining in his innocent brown eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath and clapped his hands to his thighs, standing up. "Alright then," he said, he voice forcibly chipper, "I guess we should probably start working on the song, then—"

"Wait," Puck interrupted, holding up a hand to stop his friend. He got to his feet as well, looking up at Finn. "She doesn't want either of us, okay?" He was speaking a much softer and more respectful tone than usual, and it held Finn's attention as Puck calmly verbalized what he wanted to get off his chest. "She can't handle us fighting over her." The tenderness in his voice told Finn that this was a subject Puck was clearly serious about—despite Finn's anger towards his friend for sleeping with his girlfriend, he could tell that he honestly cared for Quinn. "We need to do what's best for her."

Finn just nodded; he was still adamantly against leaving Quinn to provide for herself and a baby. Ever since her parents had thrown her out, Finn had essentially taken care of Quinn, making sure she had good food and a place to sleep. If she didn't want to have to deal with Finn _or_ Puck…where would she go? He simply felt too guilty letting her fend for herself without anyone to turn to.

"So that means…we should probably stop fighting. I'm not saying we have to be best friends again if you don't want to," Puck added hastily, "but it would be better for Quinn if we stopped wanting to punch each other's brains out."

Finn honestly would have liked to do far worse things to Puck than simply punch his brains out, but he didn't mention that. Instead, he nodded, taken aback by his friend's sudden maturity. "You're right." Puck held out a hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Finn took it, harshly jerking it up and down twice before letting go and moving over to the computer. "Guess we should probably work on the song now, right? Since that's what we're here for and all…"

He would never tell Puck this, but he was right; right now, Finn wanted Quinn to be happy, even if she had lied to him—he was going to restrain himself and try to put up with his former best friend (Finn wondered if their friendship would ever be the same again), if only for the sake of Quinn and her baby (even if she didn't take his suggestion to name it Drizzle like he had wanted).

…_But still,_ he kept thinking, _she did choose me…_

He opened iTunes and clicked on the practice track Mr. Schue had burned for them. The music started and Finn cleared his throat, beginning to sing.

"_Did I abuse her, or show her disdain?_

_Why does she run from me?"_

He had never done anything wrong to her…even that puppy love crush on Rachel had dissipated for the most part…but why had she lied to him? And now, when he wanted her back, why wouldn't she accept his help? She couldn't do it alone…

"_If I should lose her, how shall I regain_

_The heart she has won from me?"_

Maybe she _had_ won his heart at some point…but she had lost it for now…and he had lost her for certain.

"_Agony!_

_Beyond power of speech!_

_When the one thing you want_

_Is the only thing out of your reach._"

He didn't truly feel 'agony,' but he certainly felt guilty and confused and sick inside, because he knew that, because Quinn had chosen him in the first place, it was still his responsibility to care for their unborn child. Maybe he did still love her, somewhere deep down beneath all the hatred and anger towards her for lying to him and playing him like a fool…but the fact that he couldn't bring himself to forgive her made it so much worse.

* * *

"_Like a comet pulled from orbit, as it passes a sun_…"

"You're still a little sharp. The note on 'CO-met' needs to be lighter, too."

Quinn felt her jaw clench tighter. Even though she didn't want to punch Rachel Berry for snitching the truth of the baby's paternity to Finn, she might very well send a right hook flying into that hideous Barbra-Streisand-Jew-nose if she didn't quit criticizing her (after all, Sue had made the Cheerios lift weights year round, and Quinn was still proud of the fact she leveled Daniel Finch after last year's basketball championship when he slapped her ass as he ran to the locker room).

"Well, excuse me for not obsessively practicing showtunes for sixteen years, RuPaul," Quinn muttered impatiently, crossing her arms (luckily her baby bump wasn't so huge that she could actually rest her arms on it). "Besides, I've got too much on my plate to worry about this concert."

Rachel said nothing; instead, she hit the pause button on her laptop and spun around in her desk chair, eyeing Quinn expectantly. Quinn had almost burst out laughing when she first saw the hot pink computer sitting on Rachel's desk with a sticker proclaiming that its owner was "Hot Stuff." If anything proved to her that Rachel Berry had an ego the size of Texas, this piece of evidence was it. Not only that, but the girl's room was absolutely garish, full of pink fuzz, various Broadway posters, and pictures of Rachel herself in recitals and performances—there was even a bulletin board with no less than sixteen professional headshots tacked up, with a sticky note at the top of the board bearing the message: _I know it's hard, but you need to narrow these down!_

Normally Quinn would have relayed all of this hilarious information immediately to Santana and Brittany, who would spread it throughout the rest of the Cheerios and eventually the whole school, but now she saw these things as humorous evidence of Rachel's personality quirks…nothing more.

"What?" the blonde finally snapped after ten seconds of awkward silence. "Are you going to point out the fact that I've already called you that name so many times you don't care?"

Rachel had never cared what sort of transvestite-related nicknames Quinn called her, but she remained silent.

"Well, it's true," Quinn continued, her voice slowly growing more venomous and menacing. "Not to mention your terrifying man-hands and those ugly argyle sweaters and all the other clothes that belong on a third-grader…" Quinn's voice steadily became more shrill and harsh as she threw every possible insult towards Rachel in an attempt to shatter her seemingly impenetrable defenses, by this point simply listing all the things she hated about her: "…that butt part and that _hideous _Jew nose and your stupid knee socks and those skirts that you _know_ are just a little too short for any teenage boy to stand…"

She stopped, realizing her voice was noticeably trembling. Figuring it was from lacking the oxygen—all of which she had spent on hurling superficial insults towards the girl she hated for being able to get both Puck and Finn while she herself couldn't hold onto either of them—she took a deep, steadying breath before finishing her barrage of insults at full force.

"And your social awkwardness and you have _no_ friends and your unbearable ego and…and…because you go running around behind my back with _my_ boyfriend and then with the boy whose baby I'm carrying and I won't talk to one of them and the other won't talk to _me_!"

Her eyes were locked onto Rachel's face, which had remained impassive the entire time. Quinn was fighting back tears (whether of anger or of sadness she had no idea) and breathing in short gasps, but Rachel looked as confident and at ease as ever, which only made her that much angrier.

The two girls remained fixed on each other for nearly a minute, during which Quinn tried to regain her composure. Finally, Rachel spoke, her tone much softer and friendlier than Quinn would have anticipated: "Are you finished?"

Quinn hated Rachel for keeping her calm, but she jerked her head up and down and cleared her throat. "Yes," she replied stiffly. "I am." She noticed her nose was stuffed up again, which happened often when she became emotionally worked up. She sniffed loudly and turned away, feeling all of her emotions building up higher and higher and slowly melting away the icy shell she had built up through years of popularity and social success. She could feel the tears welling up, and she quickly rubbed them away, still facing away and determined not to let Rachel see another moment of weakness.

Rachel took a moment before speaking again; the self-centered part of her brain wanted to tell Quinn to stop crying because they needed to perfect this song for the concert (after all, if it was good enough, Mr. Schue would possibly let them take it to regionals!), but the newly awakened side—the side that valued _friendship_—told her Quinn needed to let out her emotions to someone who would listen. This was the side that one, and the one that made her finally speak.

"Quinn…" Rachel said softly, nervously scooting closer to the other girl, thinking furiously of something appropriate to say, "I'm so sorry. I know you're not lashing out at me because you hate me—"

"That's completely false," Quinn muttered, her face buried in her hands. "I'm not mad at you," she continued, lifting her head up to stare Rachel with her watery blue eyes, her 'bitch face' turned up to full blast, with pursed lips and a set jaw. "But your ego is way more than I can handle right now. I'm _pregnant_." She was suddenly brought back to the day she told Finn…the day she had decided to lie to him because she was so desperate to hold onto him. "I don't _care_ if I'm 'too sharp,' and I really don't need to you to constantly remind me that you're a better singer than me. We all know it; we've heard you sing so many solos it's impossible _not_ to know."

Rachel's face fell as Quinn's insults began to get to her; now they were calculated and specific instead of random superficial putdowns thrown out in a fit of rage. "I—I wasn't trying to assert my superiority—"

"You were!" Quinn shot back. "You're _so_ glad that I'm not the most popular girl in school anymore, and you're just _loving_ it that I have to come _crawling_ back to Glee so you can just show everyone how you're _so much better_ than the _pregnant_ girl who got kicked off the cheerleading squad…" Her voice broke and began to shake again, but Quinn was too busy screaming at Rachel to bother fixing it. She continued her tirade, tears falling freely from her eyes, desperate now to pull Rachel down with her, "…who's never gonna get her boyfriend back _or_ even the boy who _fucked _her"—it was the first time she'd ever used such a vulgar word, and guilt shot through her—"and is going to spend the rest of her life stuck in this stupid town with a kid she doesn't want!"

She was finished now; her well of insults had run dry; the icy façade had completely washed away. She fell forward into Rachel's arms, sobbing uncontrollably into the cashmere sweaters she hated so much. Rachel, caught completely off-guard, felt the tears staining the delicate pink fibers, but she did nothing to push Quinn away. Instead, she ran her hand down Quinn's back, her other fist grasped tightly by Quinn's hands.

She whispered softly, "I'm sorry…it's alright…you'll be okay."

And in reply, almost incomprehensibly, she could have sworn she heard Quinn's hysterical reply as her sobs racked both of their bodies: "Oh, God, help me!"

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for taking so long to update, guys; the holidays were a lot busier than I had anticipated, and I spent a lot of time debating whether or not I wanted to end the chapter with Quinn's breakdown or keep going (I obviously chose the latter). Please review, as always, especially if you have any suggestions for improvement!


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